Confessions of a Curious Bookseller

by Green, Elizabeth

  I am simply tired of going at this alone, otherwise I wouldn’t have led him on this long. It’s quite nice to have my own business and good employees and a geographically close family, but in these later years I’m beginning to long for more. Richard was merely the man who seemed interesting at the moment. And now because of my flighty interest and fickle tastes, his feelings have been hurt. There is nothing really wrong with Richard; he’s just not the man for me. Just as a shoe that is two sizes too large is not for me. It’s no fault of the shoe’s, nor is it any fault of my foot’s. Oh, here I am trying to make myself feel better. I hope I still have some wine left in the fridge! Most of the time that works better than any reasoning and logic.

  From: Fawn Birchill

  Sent: Fri, Nov 9, 2018 at 9:30 AM

  To: Staff

  Subject: Richard

  Dear Staff,

  If a man named Richard comes into the store looking for me, tell him I am out and let me know immediately so that I can disappear until he decides to leave. He is handsome, about 6’3” with thinning brown hair and large green eyes. I told him my father is dying and even though he isn’t, please play along if Richard mentions it.

  Thanks!

  Fawn, Owner

  phillysmallbiz.com

  Fri, Nov 9, 2018

  Top Review—The Curious Cat Book Emporium

  I stopped in here today to just peruse. After leaving I realized another bookstore is moving in just down the street and looks kind of amazing. I’m really glad a new place is coming in because the Curious Cat Book Emporium is an unorganized dump, and its time has come!

  —David P.

  phillysmallbiz.com

  Fri, Nov 9, 2018

  David P.,

  Your comment was both hurtful and inaccurate. Please do not use phillysmallbiz.com to tout your slanderous remarks, but keep them to yourself. No doubt this new store will be wildly different from ours, and there will be no competition between us whatsoever. Most likely they will specialize in certain books or (god forbid) have a poor selection but a great atmosphere—the death sentence for a new bookstore.

  Thanks for stopping in to the store (even though you gave it two hearts). I do hope you found the book you wanted!

  Best wishes,

  Fawn, Owner, The Curious Cat Book Emporium

  From: Richard Saunders

  Sent: Fri, Nov 9, 2018 at 11:04 AM

  To: Fawn Birchill

  Re: You and I

  Hi Fawn,

  I understand the pressing need to care for family, and I appreciate your honesty. You seemed distracted the last few times we were out, so this explains it. I was a little concerned it had something to do with me.

  And just to set the record straight, I was mildly embarrassed that I managed to splash soup all over the front of my shirt. I actually hadn’t realized it happened until I was home and looked in the mirror. It would have been nice had you told me the moment you noticed it so I could have done something about it before it got out of hand. Maybe this is all for the best.

  I wish you well.

  —Rich

  From: Fawn Birchill

  Sent: Fri, Nov 9, 2018 at 11:26 AM

  To: Richard Saunders

  Re: You and I

  Richard,

  If you must know, yes, the soup incident was a bit difficult to stomach. I can’t help but advise you that if you know from the start that you are an avid slurper and dribbler, then do not order soup on a date. And you are correct: this has nothing to do with you personally. I simply cannot take care of two men at once, and it is only because of blood connection that I choose my father.

  Additionally, a new bookstore is moving in literally a block from mine. Thus far they haven’t contacted me or acknowledged my store, so I fear I am stuck with neighbors who lack decorum and manners. I stood outside to watch them unload trendy couches and large boxes of who knows what while my eye twitched ever so slightly. In the twenty years I’ve owned this business, something like this has never happened. As you can see, there is much cause for stress in my life.

  Sincerely,

  Fawn

  From: Richard Saunders

  Sent: Fri, Nov 9, 2018 at 12:16 PM

  To: Fawn Birchill

  Re: You and I

  Hi Fawn,

  Actually, I didn’t need to know that the soup bothered you so much, as it wasn’t my fault. And since we’re going there, it’s probably a good idea for me to remind you that I live on a librarian’s salary, so insisting we eat at swanky steak houses every time we go to a restaurant is a bit gauche.

  This has been very illuminating.

  —Rich

  P.S. I hope your store isn’t too affected by the new neighbor and that your father feels better soon.

  From: Fawn Birchill

  Sent: Fri, Nov 9, 2018 at 1:45 PM

  To: Richard Saunders

  Re: You and I

  Richard,

  I fail to believe that one doesn’t feel hot soup cascading down one’s shirt. Maybe all that time in the library has made you quite the great storyteller. Ever consider writing fiction?

  Thank you for your concern regarding my store and my father.

  Fawn

  From: Richard Saunders

  Sent: Fri, Nov 9, 2018 at 1:56 PM

  To: Fawn Birchill

  Re: You and I

  Fawn,

  That was unnecessary and over the line, but I will assume it’s because you are stressed, so I won’t fault you for it.

  Regarding your store, I have an acquaintance through my work at the library who has an impressive inventory of books that he is looking to off-load for the right price. His grandfather just died—he was a bit of a mad collector—so he’s holding an estate sale. His info is attached.

  I wish you well.

  —Rich

  From: Fawn Birchill

  Sent: Fri, Nov 9, 2018 at 2:02 PM

  To: Richard Saunders

  Re: You and I

  Richard,

  You’re right: I apologize. That was over the line. I get very sensitive when people are petty. You are a kind man with many excellent qualities that I know someone else will appreciate. I am just too busy right now. And yes, if you must know, the soup really pushed me over the edge. But this is about my father, let me remind you, and not the soup or your childish love of freight trains.

  To leave this on a positive note, thank you very much for the estate sale contact. Did you say he would reach out to me? If so, I will wait to hear from him. I am excited to see the kind of volume he has. You are a true friend to think of me. Keep in touch.

  Best,

  Fawn

  From: Jacob Whitney

  Sent: Mon, Nov 12, 2018 at 7:55 PM

  To: Fawn Birchill

  Subject: Books for sale

  Greetings!

  Our mutual friend, Richard, mentioned you might be interested in some of my late grandfather’s books. He was quite the collector, as you will find. For example, I have some first-edition Faulkners and a second edition of The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot. Also, I have a lot of Mark Twain. I would be happy to work something out with you and support your store in this way.

  Regards,

  Jacob

  From: Fawn Birchill

  Sent: Mon, Nov 12, 2018 at 8:12 PM

  To: Jacob Whitney

  Re: Books for sale

  Dear Mr. Whitney,

  Thank you for your interest in my bookstore and for reaching out to me. My store has two floors of used books (some rather rare) and a basement full of inventory waiting to go up on the shelves. That said, I would be happy to take whatever you have. May I ask: What exactly do you mean by, “I have a lot of Mark Twain”? I’ll take it all regardless, but I’m already running out of room in the basement, so I have to be somewhat cautious. What is your price, and can you send me a manifest?

  This is quite fortuitous timing, as a new bookstore (literally a block away) is opening its doors later this month, a
nd I am strategizing ways to stand apart. There was an article in the paper about how it will have cats and a coffee shop / bar inside, which worries me—but only slightly, as the article left out nearly any mention of the types of books they will be selling. Either it’s bad journalism or someone at that store is covering up the fact that its inventory is shamefully scarce!

  Additionally, thank you for your kind words. They say times are changing, and I see it myself: everyone in Philadelphia has an electronic reading device like a Kindle or an iPad, it seems. But I think there are still people out there who want to hold on to the printed page like a newborn baby or a small animal—gently, lovingly, and viscerally. And even though I see a resurgence in people’s interest in books and the independent bookstore (thank god!), my store, it seems, is left behind. It is a truth I regularly keep from my staff, for if while on the raging seas a captain points out a leak in the hull, she might find her weaker crew members abandoning ship, which is not the result I seek. I suppose a captain would tell her crew the ship was sinking only if it were absolutely necessary to do so. No need to stir up panic just because of a little deficit in the finances. It’s not as if I am looking to file for bankruptcy! Anyway, let us keep that between us businesspeople, shall we? I will catch this wave and ride it yet, and I believe your books may be just the ticket. For that, I thank you.

  Will it be possible to deliver the books prior to Black Friday?

  Sincerely,

  Fawn Birchill, Owner, The Curious Cat Book Emporium

  From: Fawn Birchill

  Sent: Tue, Nov 13, 2018 at 10:45 AM

  To: Staff

  Subject: Store Cleaning

  Dear Staff,

  I will be staying late on Thursday to do a quick cleaning of the store. It should take only a few hours. I need some willing volunteers because I can’t do it on my own or I’ll be cleaning until 3 a.m. again.

  A general note: do not leave the toilet seat up. That goes for the ladies too. PLEASE, SHUT THE LID. Butterscotch likes to play in the water, and last time somebody not only left the lid up, but they also didn’t bother to flush.

  Many thanks,

  Fawn, Owner

  November 14, 2018

  My only tenant, an elderly woman named Jane, is so quiet that I sometimes worry she’s dead. There are spans of time in which I don’t hear a thing from her—not even running water or a flushing toilet. Last night was such a circumstance, where it dawned on me that it had been three days since I’d heard anything. I had leftover chicken parmesan, so I crept downstairs with it. The last time I’d spoken with her was when I had to go in to collect a couple of dead mice in their traps; the woman hates rodents. So I pushed open the door and said hello. She was very surprised to see me and grateful for the chicken. However, she spoke to me while holding a tissue to her nose, claiming to be ill. She directed me to put her dinner in the refrigerator and to stay away from her, as she was contagious. I wanted to clean up all the tissues scattered on the floor, but she wouldn’t let me, so I didn’t push the subject. She is a very nice woman, and I think she might appreciate a home-cooked meal from time to time.

  I received an email from my pen pal, Gregory, tonight! It was just what I needed to brighten my evening. Now to my tradition of pouring a large glass of wine, turning on Chopin, and replying.

  From: Gregory Harris

  Sent: Wed, Nov 14, 2018 at 8:31 PM

  To: Fawn Windsor

  Subject: Yoo-hoo!

  Dear Fawn,

  I had some time between meetings, so I’m taking the opportunity to say a quick hello. Right now, I’m at a café on the Liffey drinking a cappuccino and watching passersby, and I can’t help but think of you and how much you’d enjoy this. At this very moment, in fact, I’m witnessing a young man propose to his girlfriend. She seems completely flabbergasted. Oh, this is good.

  Anyway, I’m very busy. Just flipped a multiunit residential building not far from where I’m sitting. Hoping the capital gains are worth it. This one came in over budget.

  Oh dear. I think she said no. This is quite uncomfortable. Dublin is a hell of a town.

  Tell me how your life is going lately. Talk soon.

  Gregory

  From: Fawn Windsor

  Sent: Wed, Nov 14, 2018 at 10:00 PM

  To: Gregory Harris

  Re: Yoo-hoo!

  Dearest Gregory,

  I had a whisper of a notion that you might be emailing me, and I was right! I’m so glad you did, as I have much to recount from my recent trip to Croatia. Have you been? No doubt in your line of work, travel is forced upon you. I was able to leave my father’s estate for an entire month (imagine the freedom!) and entrust the horses to Pierre. I put my finger on a globe in the study and spun it, only to land on Croatia!

  I got my affairs in order and left, worried the place may burn to the ground under the watch of my house staff, but I couldn’t deny myself a little freedom. I won’t be young forever—I’m already going rather grey, even though I dye. And sometimes when I see myself in the mirror, I realize with horror that my feet have a natural splay to them, almost like that of Daffy Duck. I can only imagine how ridiculous I appear when I walk. I am always trying to correct this, but my efforts are like swimming upstream—I am getting nowhere. Do you know, despite all that, a stranger came up to me the other day and told me that I look like an older Keira Knightley? Needless to say, I was flattered. Had he seen me walking or standing he might have rescinded, but luckily I was sitting at the time and no one was the wiser. Do you know who Keira Knightley is? I recommend looking her up and imagining her a little older, with splayed feet, and it may be as good as any photograph that I could send you.

  Croatia, contrary to popular belief, is no longer going through any major conflict and is therefore a best-kept secret for discerning travelers like myself. While most are traversing the beaches of Monte Carlo and skiing the Alps, those in the know are drinking fabulous Croatian wine and walking through its amazing parks. The waterfalls, Gregory! I’ve never been able to drink an entire bottle of wine and then wake up the next day for a hike around waterfalls. One simply doesn’t get hungover on Croatian wine! Incidentally, the same gentleman who commented that I looked like Ms. Knightley ended up being a love interest while I was on my travels. However, it did not work out. He is a charming, handsome man from the South of France and owns acres of seaside real estate; however, he cannot properly eat soup to save his life. By the time we were finished with our meal, his white Versace shirt was covered in tomato bisque. And how childish he was! He had the strangest obsession with trains. Anyway, I ditched him in Split (no pun intended!). I think I broke his tomato-covered heart, but alas, it was for the best.

  Here I am rambling on. I just wanted to say hello and let you know how things are going on my end. A failed proposal! How terribly awkward! I am so happy to hear your real estate business is getting on well. Dublin must be lovely this time of year. It’s been so long since I’ve traversed those city streets or drunk a pint of real Guinness!

  Incidentally, one of my cousins (a duke in southern England) has passed away and left me with a mountain of Mark Twain books. An odd gift but I believe a lucrative one if I play my cards right. I would very much like to sell them and see what I can get. Some are very old indeed. Funny for a Brit to love Mark Twain so much, but my cousin was eccentric. I hear he paid for everything in rolls of shillings, despite his millions.

  Much love,

  Fawn Windsor

  November 14

  Dear Fawn,

  Enclosed please find your birthday gift. Sorry there isn’t much this year. How are the store and Philly in general these days? I haven’t been to Philly since last year when I went for the Macy’s Christmas light show with Florence and the kids.

  I wanted to let you know that your father was moved into hospice care two days ago. Most of the time these days he doesn’t even know who I am. I do wish you would visit when you can find the time. It would mean so much to him, even thoug
h he might not recognize you. He often calls Florence by your name, and lately we’ve decided to stop correcting him.

  Sorry to include this morose news with your birthday card, but such is life. Personally, I’d rather know what’s going on than have people sugarcoat everything for me, only to find out how terrible things really are when it’s far too late.

  Anyway, happy birthday, my firstborn child. Yours was an extraordinarily difficult birth, but you were absolutely worth it. I hope you have fun birthday plans.

  Much love,

  Mother

  November 15, 2018

  I didn’t sleep well last night. The pressure to see my father is overwhelming. It would be one thing if the guilt was only coming from my mother and sister, but there is some self-generated guilt as well that’s making this particularly challenging. Not that I owe him anything. I sacrificed my childhood and teenage years for his pitiful store. And for what? So people would have somewhere to buy cigarettes and Pepsi? So that they wouldn’t have to drive or walk another five blocks to the Wawa? And he wants to see me. Does he want to see me? Or is this something Mother is doing—a last-ditch attempt to get the scattered family back together again one last time? Not so that Florence and I can see our father but so that we can see our jailer. So that he can feel less guilty because our presence alone indicates forgiveness or at the very least an attempt at it. And my mother can sit back and see us all together and feel absolved of her complacency in our lost childhood.

  And yet, shouldn’t I see him? This man who never said a tender word to me in my whole life? Should I rise above by picking up the phone or jumping on the train? Frankly, at the moment, all I can think about is going back to sleep. I must stop drinking in bed.

  Dear Fawn,

  I found chicken parmesan in my refrigerator. Did you or my daughter leave it? I heated it in the microwave, and it was good.

  —Jane, your tenant

  From: Mark Nilsen